


the sword alone, the shield forsaken

by Lise



Series: Remember This Cold [51]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (but not what you think), Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Loki does okay (for once), M/M, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Pre-Civil War (Marvel), Steve Rogers Feels, Steve trying to carry the world on his shoulders, but like things are sort of okay in the end, emotional negotiation, sad Steve Rogers, squishes everyone in this fic, what do I tag this?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 16:58:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6713326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy Carter's condition takes a turn for the worse, and throws everything a little out of balance. "Everything" here mostly meaning "Steve."</p>
            </blockquote>





	the sword alone, the shield forsaken

**Author's Note:**

> The second "countdown to Civil War" fic I wrote (and probably the last one I'll post before I go see the movie on...Thursday ahhhhh). I could talk a lot about the motivations behind writing this, but I don't think that's really necessary, and would probably just unearth a lot of insecurities _about_ this fic, so...nah. Let's leave it at the fact that it was really fun to write a lot of very sad Steve Rogers. I can't help it if I like making handsome men cry. 
> 
> With thanks to [portraitoftheoddity](http://portraitoftheoddity.tumblr.com), who helped me with brainstorming for this fic at all stages, and [ameliarating](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com), my wonderful beta, who continues to read everything I throw at her and not make fun of me for the fact that literally every fic comes with a "this is probably terrible" disclaimer. 
> 
> Enjoy, folks. 
> 
> (The title of the fic comes from "Hopeful Hearts" by Sarah Slean, the [lyrics of which](http://www.songlyrics.com/sarah-slean/hopeful-hearts-lyrics/) are _so very Steve Rogers_.
>
>> so we take the path not taken  
> down into the fields of war  
> sword alone, the shield forsaken  
> this the right we're fighting for

It was a nice, quiet afternoon, reading together on the couch (Steve sitting up, Loki reclining with his legs across Steve’s lap) when Steve got the call. “Ignore it,” Loki said when his phone rang, but Steve just gave him a look and picked it up.

“Steve Rogers speaking,” he said. A moment’s pause, and then, “Sharon?” He sounded surprised, and Loki glanced up and caught just a glimpse of an awful expression on Steve’s face before it went blank. “No, no, it’s – thanks for calling,” he said, and Loki caught the very slight vibration in his voice and felt it echoed in a nervous flutter in his stomach. “I’ll be right there.” He hung up, staring straight ahead. Loki withdrew his legs and sat up slowly.

“Steve?”

He shuddered, squeezed his eyes closed and took a deep breath. “Can you. I hate to ask you this, Loki, but I need to get to D.C. Can you…take me there?”

Loki blinked, once. Hydra, his first thought, and then Wilson, but he made his home with the Avengers these days. “Of course,” he said, shifting. “May I ask why?”

He took another deep breath, too slow and deliberate, running his fingers roughly through his hair. “It’s Peggy,” he said. Loki’s heart clenched in his chest, a pulse of resentment he tried to ignore. “She’s…it doesn’t look good.”

Oh, Loki thought. _Oh._ He stood. “Tell me where you need to go,” he said simply. Steve’s shoulders sagged and Loki almost wanted to ask _did you think I’d refuse?_ But did not. “I-”

“Let’s go,” Steve interrupted. His hand gripped Loki’s just a little too tightly, something rigid in his shoulders. _Brittle,_ Loki thought, without wanting to.

He took them to the address Steve gave, just outside. “I’ll wait for you,” Loki said. Steve opened his mouth like he was about to say something, then closed it.

“Probably best,” he said. “I’ll – I’ll call you.” He looked, for a moment, very lost. Loki wavered a moment, trying to think what he ought to say, but Steve had already turned to walk inside, and it was not as though Loki belonged here. He had never met this woman. He knew she was important to Steve: that he had loved her, did love her. He had read her war record and watched her speak in one or two documentaries. But he did not know _her._ Steve had never offered-

(He had never asked.)

Loki wondered if he ought to call Barnes. He had probably known Ms. Carter as well. Or Wilson, who might be better equipped to help. But Steve had not asked him to do so, and Loki did not want to risk possibly making things worse.

He left his phone in his pocket and made his way to a nearby park, where he sat on a bench and waited.

* * *

Steve called as the sky was starting to turn color. “I got kicked out,” he said. “Can you…I’m going to stay in the city, book a room. If you want to go home…”

“You don’t have any of your things,” Loki pointed out. “Your money, clothing…”

“Oh,” Steve said after a moment. “I…right.” He was silent, and Loki felt his heart lurch uneasily again.

“I will bring them,” Loki said. “Choose a hotel and text me the location. I can meet you there.”

“All right,” Steve said. “Loki, I – thank you. I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize, Captain,” Loki said lightly, though his unease was only growing. “I will come to you shortly. Is there anything in particular you would like?”

“No, that’s…fine. Whatever’s…just a few days’ worth. I’m…” Steve trailed off. Loki waited, but he didn’t continue. Loki’s throat tightened.

“Steve?” He asked, trying to sound gentle. “Are you well?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Yeah, fine.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I have to…I need to be able to take calls on this phone. Just in case.”

Loki tried not to feel a selfish pang. “Of course,” he said. “I will bring your things to you shortly.”

* * *

He slipped in and out without speaking to anyone. He might have said something to Thor, if he was not on Asgard (had been for some time, and Loki was trying not to worry about it), but as it was it seemed more important to avoid delays. He received a text with the name of a hotel and a room number, and slinging a bag of Steve’s things over his shoulder transported himself to it. He let himself in the back door and disengaged the lock on the room with a touch.

Stepping inside, Loki could hear the shower running and was almost relieved. Steve’s behavior might be (was) disconcerting, but he was still caring for himself. Just distracted. Understandably so.

He laid out a clean pair of clothes and settled down to wait for Steve to emerge.

But he didn’t. Loki waited perhaps ten minutes before standing and knocking on the door, anxiety gnawing at his stomach. “Steve?” He called. “Are you…” He trailed off. Asking if he was well seemed insensitive.

The water shut off. “Loki?” Steve’s voice sounded shaky, but maybe he had imagined it, because it steadied on the next words. “I didn’t know you were here – just a second.”

Loki retreated, a little relieved. If Steve hadn’t been aware of his presence, perhaps he’d just been taking his time. Relaxing.

The anxiety didn’t go away.

Steve did emerge shortly, though, still toweling his hair dry. Loki studied his face, which looked drawn and pale, though when he saw Loki he tried to smile. “I’m sorry for making you run back and forth,” he said. “I feel so stupid, I didn’t think…”

“Dismiss it from your mind,” Loki said smoothly, standing up. “It was no trouble.” He moved over to Steve, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Steve pulled away and Loki felt a chill go through him. He let his hand fall. “May I ask…?”

“A cold,” Steve said, pulling on his clothes without looking at Loki. “She had a cold and it’s turned into pneumonia. She’s breathing on her own, for now, but…” He trailed off. Steve saw him swallow several times, his hand balling into a fist on his leg. “The doctors said this might be it. Maybe a – 30-70 chance that she’ll pull through.” His voice was dull, almost toneless.

“Steve…” Loki searched for the right words, though none seemed quick to come. “I am sorry,” he said finally. “I know how much she means to you. If there is anything I might do…”

Steve sat straight up, turning desperately hopeful eyes on Loki. “You know some healing,” he said. “Right? Could you-” but even before he finished asking the question he must have seen the answer on Loki’s face. His shoulders slumped and he looked away, but not before Loki saw his disappointment.

“I know very little of Midgardian diseases,” he said, trying to be gentle. “Most of my healing experience is – little more than battlefield triage.”

“Right,” Steve said. “Okay.” He sounded – _looked –_ exhausted.

“Why don’t you lie back, try to sleep,” Loki suggested, coaxing. “Give me your phone, and the moment someone calls I will wake you.”

“No,” Steve said sharply, almost recoiling. “No, I can’t do that. Sharon could call any minute. I need to – I need to be ready.” His jaw shifted, setting. “I have to be there for her.” _You will be,_ Loki wanted to say, but he feared that his soothing might go awry. Before he could figure out how best to reply, Steve stood up.  “I – need to go for a run. I’ll have my phone.”

“Steve,” Loki started to say, but he was already out the door. Loki stared after him, worry growing larger. He had seen Steve upset and in distress before – after James’s return, or after his captivity with Sin – but this felt different, and different in this case made Loki uneasy.

Little enough he could do now, however.

* * *

Steve did not return. He sent a text saying that he was returning to the hospital. Loki considered calling Wilson, suggesting that he come, or James, to ask for advice, but ultimately did neither. He wondered if they knew what was happening, if Steve had told them. He wondered if Steve would have told _him_ if he didn’t need Loki’s help.

That was a bitter and uncharitable thought. It was only that he _hated_ being so _useless._ He tried thinking through all the healing he knew, wondering if there _was_ something that might help, but could come up with nothing.

Steve returned as afternoon turned into evening, trudging inside and nearly collapsing on the bed. “She’s still hanging on,” Steve said, before Loki could figure out how to ask. “But it’s…just hard to say. They’re trying something that might help, but it’s family only for now and I’m not…” He trailed off. Loki reached out to touch his shoulder but Steve shied away. He let his hand fall, trying not to feel a pang, trying to convince himself that it meant nothing. ( _That is twice now he has avoided your touch_.)

“They will not bend the rules for Captain America?” He asked. Steve shook his head.

“I don’t want to push, or be a distraction, or…it wouldn’t be right. Her kids are there, and grandkids, and Sharon…she just invited me as a courtesy.” There was something faintly bitter in Steve’s voice. _Do you regret the years you did not have with her?_ an ugly, jealous part of Loki wanted to ask. He did not. Perhaps out of fear the answer would be yes.

“You should rest,” Loki said. “Eat. Sleep.”

“I ate at the hospital,” Steve mumbled, but he put his head on his hands. “I can try to sleep. I guess.”

“It’s a good start,” Loki said.

Steve took a shower that was long enough that Loki started to worry, but he emerged seeming calmer, if even more exhausted. He pulled on a pair of briefs and crawled under the covers. After a moment, Loki joined him, though given the way Steve had kept pulling away from him he hesitated before drawing close and sliding his arms around him. He didn’t tense or pull away this time, though, so Loki went ahead and curled around him, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. Steve leaned back into him, and Loki felt a swell of selfish relief.

“I love you,” Steve said, after several long moments, when Loki was half sure he was asleep.

“And I you,” Loki said softly, heart a little eased.

* * *

Loki woke up alone. It was early – still dark out – but there was a note on the pillow that said simply, _out for a run, I’ll bring back breakfast._ He stared at it, frowning for several seconds before shaking himself and getting out of bed. Steve’s phone was still where he had left it. Loki tapped his fingers restlessly on his leg, guts twisting uneasily: had he forgotten it or left it intentionally so he could not be reached? But if the latter, why? Would he not want to hear any news that might come?

He had thought he knew Steve’s moods, but he did not know this one. That frightened him. There was too much that might lurk in an unknown.

Steve returned just under a half hour later, the intervening time which Loki spent pacing back and forth. He held up a white bag with a weak smile. “Donuts?” He said. “And two egg sandwiches, and some fruit.”

“You left your phone,” Loki said. The words came out more accusatory than he meant them to. Steve looked surprised, which was somewhat reassuring, and then glanced toward it with his eyebrows furrowed.

“I guess I did,” he said, sounding a touch bewildered, and then stiffened. “Did anyone call? Is there news?”

“No,” Loki said. He could hear the clipped tone in his voice and tried to control it. “I was worried.”

Something like irritation crossed Steve’s features. “Did you think I’d get mugged or something? I’m not helpless. I was fine.” Loki blinked, almost stung again, and briefly the expression on Steve’s face seemed equally surprised before he looked away. “Sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“I do not mean to cozen you,” Loki said carefully. He was navigating unfamiliar terrain, and it felt suddenly treacherous in a way he did not expect. Steve didn’t react with anger again, though, just gave him a wan smile.

“I know,” he said, setting the bag down on the bed. “It’s okay. I just didn’t sleep well last night.”

Loki frowned. “You should have woken me.”

Steve shook his head. “I didn’t want to. You deserve your rest, especially after I dragged you down here with me.”

“You did not drag me anywhere,” Loki said. “I doubt that you could.” Steve looked like he wanted to say something and thought better of it. That uneasy twist in Loki’s gut only intensified. “What is it?”

“Just-” Steve blew out a breath. “I know how likely it is that you’d say no to a favor I asked, that’s all. I know you have all these ideas about what I deserve or what you owe, or…” He shook his head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

“Does it?” Loki asked, frowning a little. “It seems as though it might. I was perfectly willing to help you-”

“You were _perfectly willing_ to walk into a death trap on Asgard, too,” Steve said, voice sharp. “And to jump off a cliff when you thought I was dead, and – never mind. I can’t – I can’t.” He ran his hand through his hair, looking anywhere but at Loki. “I’m going to go get some ice. I’ll be right back.”

Loki stared after him, not sure if he was more baffled or hurt. Or alarmed. It was clear something was wrong, and Steve was not telling him because – he did not think Loki could bear it? What was the connection with the events on Asgard or with Hydra, though, why…

He felt utterly at a loss. And deeply afraid that he was doing more harm than good.

Steve seemed better when he returned, but he rebuffed Loki’s attempts to return gently to the subject, and before long his phone rang and he was off. _What do you want from me,_ Loki wanted to ask, but he feared the answer would be _I want you to leave._ Or worse, _nothing._

* * *

Loki gave in and called James when he hadn’t heard from Steve by midday. “Is Peggy,” he started, and then paused. Loki could almost hear him reconsidering the use of her first name.

“She yet lives,” Loki said. “I take it you know the situation.”

“I heard.” A pause. “How’s Steve?” Loki exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose and searching for the right words. “That bad?” James said, like he was trying to joke but falling short.

“I do not know,” he said. “I hardly see him. I am not certain he slept. He’s distracted, refuses to speak to me…I do not know what to think.”

“You think I know what to do?” James asked. “I was never good at…that. Pretty sure I haven’t gotten better. Steve is…you know. Steve. He doesn’t like needing people. That’s probably all it is.”

“Most likely,” Loki said. “Though how am I meant to help him when he will not accept it?”

“I’m having the weirdest sense that I’ve heard this before,” James said, bone dry. “Oh wait, I’ve got it: from Steve, about you. Huh. How about that.”

Loki grimaced. “Hilarious,” he said flatly. They fell quiet, though Loki felt a little calmer.

“Hey,” James said eventually, his voice a little rough. “You think you could…when Peg, if you get a chance…I’d like to know. She was a hell of a woman. Is.”

“I will tell you,” Loki said, and added, “I wish I could meet her, if both you and Steve hold her in such high esteem.”

“Why can’t you,” James started to say, and then stopped. “Oh. Same reason I couldn’t, I guess. Us wanted men.” There was irony in his voice, but maybe a little frustration too. Of course: James had known her.

“Indeed,” Loki agreed quietly. He almost was sorry, even if he could not imagine that he would be received with friendliness. In spite of himself, he felt a little like a pet left home for the day, curled up on the rug and waiting for its master.

Loki pushed the bitterness of that thought away.

He checked his phone after hanging up. No messages, no missed calls. He sent Steve a text: _how are you? Do you need anything?_

 _No,_ he got back a moment later. _I’m fine._ Loki stared at those three words, frowning, but he couldn’t accuse Steve of lying just because he wasn’t reacting how Loki wanted him to.

Perhaps he did need something, but not from _Loki_.

Anxious doubt gnawed at him like a dog worrying over a bone. He tried to push it away. _Not about you,_ he reminded himself, but perhaps that was why he shouldn’t be here.

* * *

Steve returned late again. His expression was exhausted, shoulders slumped. He glanced at the bags of takeout on the small table and it looked like he wanted to wince. “I already ate,” he said, apologetic. “At the hospital. I’m sorry.”

“No need to be,” Loki said, making his voice light. “It will keep for later.” Steve nodded. He opened his mouth like he wanted to ask something, and then closed it, looking toward the window.

“How is she,” Loki asked, after several seconds of silence. Steve gave him a look like he was surprised that Loki asked. He tried not to let that sting.

“Not worse,” he said, running his fingers into his hair. “But not better, either. Nurse said she was breathing a little better, but I couldn’t…” he trailed off, and Loki heard his breathing hitch. He took a step forward, and reached out to take Steve’s shoulders.

“Perhaps she will recover,” Loki said tentatively. Steve’s mouth twisted.

“From this, maybe,” he said, the distance leaving his voice in favor of something sharp, almost angry. “But next it could be a heart attack, or a stroke, or a god damn _bad cold_ because she’s _old_ and I-” He broke off, and Loki could almost see him swallowing down whatever it was he’d meant to say. “—maybe,” he said eventually. Dully.

 _Do you wish you had grown old with her,_ Loki thought, but that was selfish. _Does it make you think of all the years you lost, all the friends gone,_ _is_ _watching her fade just a reminder of those you could not be beside?_ He did not say that either. “I am sorry,” he said instead, pathetically inadequate. Steve shook his head, reaching up and laying his hand on Loki’s fingers limp.

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “Thank you. For being here.” The words sounded rote, rehearsed. Like Steve knew he ought to say them.

“No need to thank me,” Loki said, though the disquiet in his stomach grew. He eyed Steve’s locked shoulders. “Lie down, Captain. Let me rub your shoulders.”

Steve shook his head. “No, thanks. I just want to go to sleep.” He trudged over to his bag, still haphazardly packed, and began picking through it. Loki stared at his back, lost.

“Steve,” Loki said, and swallowed. “Do you. Do you want me to go?”

Steve fell still, perfectly motionless, midway through unbuttoning his shirt. He didn’t look at Loki. “Do you want to go?”

“I…” Loki hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “I want what is best for you, right now. If that is not my presence, then…perhaps I can bring Sam here instead, or Romanov. Or James.” There was no answer, at least not immediately, and Loki shifted, uncertain. “Captain…”

“I don’t know,” Steve said. His voice sounded tight and his hands rose toward his face only to drop back down. “I don’t know. Everything is – I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like I don’t want you here.”

“You needn’t apologize,” Loki said quickly. “But if you need help that I cannot provide-”

“I don’t,” Steve interrupted. He fidgeted with his buttons, redoing them. “I don’t need anything. Do you _want_ to go?”

“If you want me to leave, then yes,” Loki said carefully, trying to read Steve’s expression and body language, but all he could tell was _anxious_ and _upset._ “Whatever you need…I am clearly not providing it. If there is someone else who could-”

Steve shook his head hard. “You’ve been. You’ve been fine. Great.”

Loki felt his temper flare. “Do not lie to me.”

Steve nearly flinched. “What?”

“You barely speak to me,” Loki said. “You flinch away from my touch, you will not accept comfort, you lie awake rather than turn to me. Do you think I am blind?”

“No,” Steve said. “I don’t.”

“Then do not tell me that I have been _great_ when I do not see that I am helping at all!”

Steve opened his mouth, and then closed it. “I need to go,” he said, abruptly. Loki jerked back.

“What? Why?”

“I just – I need to go. I can’t do this right now.” He stepped toward the door and Loki blocked his path.

“No,” he said, sharply. “Do not walk away from me. Not until you explain-”

“There’s nothing to explain!” Loki blinked, startled, as Steve’s voice rose. “Stop pushing me, stop asking me questions, just, _stop._ I just need to get out of here, all right? I can’t-” He shoved Loki out of the way and strode toward the door. Loki felt a well of panic surge and wheeled.

“Don’t leave,” he said, hearing a note of pleading enter his voice. He saw Steve’s shoulders rise, quiver.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said after a moment, his voice raw. He didn’t slam the door. Loki almost wished he had.

Steve had left his phone, Loki realized. He stared at it, stupidly, sitting on the bed where he'd dropped it. Had he meant to leave it? Did he want to be unreachable? (Was he planning to come back?) 

The panic was slow to come, but when it did it was vicious. Sank its teeth into him and shook Loki like a dog, snarling  _why did you have to keep pushing, couldn't you just keep your damn mouth shut, look, you drove him away, he is distraught and alone, anything could happen._

Whispered  _he could be hurt. He could be killed._

He remembered, too slowly, that of course he had another way to find Steve. His magic would pinpoint him, and then it would only be a moment's work to take himself there, and he would...

Would what? Force Steve to endure his presence, when he clearly did not wish to? Continue to impose, to open new wounds when Steve was already bleeding? Oh, yes, that was a  _tremendous_ idea. He paced, eyes going back again and again to Steve's phone. He wouldn't have left it if he meant to be gone long, Loki told himself. (But then, he'd run out in such a hurry.) He might just be going for a short walk, to clear his head. (He might be running away.) 

Loki wanted to scream. He swallowed that, held in the urge to lash out, fists clenching until his palms ached from the pressure of his nails. He exhaled, slowly.  _Call Sam. No. Call Bucky. Call Natasha. No, don't, it'll only frighten them (they'll want to know what you did)._

He should not have said anything. And he still did not know if Steve wanted him gone. Should he leave now, to be safe, so that he would not be there when Steve returned? He did not want to leave Steve alone. Did not think that was...wise. 

Loki sat down and dropped his face into his hands. No. All he could do was wait.

So he did. Staying in the room because if Steve came back he did not want to miss him, Pacing back and forth and then dropping down to stare into space, going over his conduct again and again, picking at the mistakes he’d made, rehearsing the different words he might have chosen. It was a pointless exercise and Loki knew it, but even the pain of self-flagellation was better than the pain of fear and uncertainty.

* * *

It was, perhaps, three hours before Loki’s phone rang. He snatched it up, glanced briefly at the number (unfamiliar) and pressed it to his ear, hoping it would be Steve saying _hello, come pick me up, I’m sorry._

“Hello?” He said, and wanted to wince at the faintly breathless note in his voice.

“Hello,” an unfamiliar voice answered, and Loki’s heart sank. “Is this the emergency contact for Mr. Steve Rogers?” Loki heard just the slightest hitch of hesitation before the name, but barely registered it, stuck on _emergency._

“Yes,” he said, though he had not been aware there was such a thing. “I am, what happened? Where is he?”

“Can I have your name, sir?” Loki wanted to snarl. Had Steve given them one? His hesitation was perhaps taken for confusion, because the man on the other end of the line added, “He gave us this number, but not your name. You should remind him to update his information.”

“Theodore,” he said. “Theodore Blöndal. Where _is_ he?”

“My name is Andrew Levitt and I’m a nurse at Inova Fairfax Hospital in Falls Church.” _Hospital,_ Loki heard, and let out a shuddering breath, stomach lurching. “Mr. Rogers is going to be fine,” Andrew hastened to add, but Loki felt almost too sick to hear it. “But we’d like to keep him overnight for observation-”

“Falls Church,” Loki said. “That’s where you said you were?”

“Yes,” the nurse said after a moment. “Inova Fairfax. Would you like me to tell you-”

“I will be there shortly,” Loki said, and hung up. He could feel himself shaking. _Mr. Rogers is going to be fine,_ Mr. Levitt had said soothingly, but _going to be_ was not _is._ Something had happened, Steve had been hurt, and now they wanted to keep him _for observation._ Observation of what?

Loki checked his phone for the location of the hospital and felt another lurch at the distance. How far had Steve gone? And how had he gotten there? That he had apparently given the healers Loki’s phone number (but not his name) was heartening, but that he had not called Loki himself-

He teleported to the grounds and found the front door, just remembering to bring Steve’s phone with him. He had to wait in line behind several others, fidgeting with the urge to shove his way through and demand they show him to Steve, but he did not want to antagonize anyone who might be helping him.

“How can I help you?” The receptionist asked when Loki stepped up to the counter.

“Steve Rogers,” Loki said, keeping his voice low. “I am his…” He trailed off, a little uncertain. _Lover_ did not seem an appropriate word for this context. _Partner_ might be risky as well, depending on what conclusions she – or anyone else – drew.  Ultimately, he settled on, “emergency contact.”

The receptionist gave him a brief glance that tried too hard not to look curious. “Fourth floor, east wing,” she said. “They’ll be able to give you a room number there.”

Finding his way through the hospital was a little like navigating a maze, but he managed to reach the right place eventually. The man he queried there checked something on his computer and told Loki to wait while he found the doctor. Loki managed to refrain from telling him that if he did not see Steve with his own eyes right then he would quite probably destroy some vital equipment. He stepped back again for more waiting, instead.

His heart still thudded uncomfortably hard. _Does Steve know that I’m coming,_ he thought abruptly. _Does he even want me to be here?_

Too late now. And in truth Loki wasn’t willing to turn back.

* * *

The woman who emerged after several minutes and locked eyes with him looked cheerful enough – or at least she did not look braced to deliver bad news. “Mr. Blondal?” She asked, and Loki simply nodded, not bothering to correct her pronunciation.

“Yes,” he said, and then stopped, too many questions bubbling up at once to choose one: _can I see him, is he all right, what happened, how badly is he hurt, is he awake, let me see him._

She held out a hand. “I’m Doctor Jaya Tiwari.” Loki took it, slightly dazed, but remembered in time not to bow. “All right,” she said, when he released her hand. “First things first: Steve is going to be all right. Nurse Levitt told me that he’d told you over the phone we were keeping him overnight for observation: that’s standard protocol for head injuries and loss of consciousness, but based on assessments so far he doesn’t seem to have sustained any serious damage.”

Loki’s chest felt tight and he almost wanted to sit down. _Head injuries and loss of consciousness._ He locked his knees and made himself nod. “What…what else?”

The healer looked at him, seeming to consider. “Do you know what happened?” Loki shook his head once. “What we know is: the 911 call came in from a driver who saw him on the side of the road. He was unconscious when they called, but came around shortly before the paramedics arrived and was fairly coherent, but confused. He hasn’t said a lot about what he was doing, just that he was going for a run and a car clipped him in the dark.” Loki’s throat felt like it was closing, but he made himself nod, pretending not to notice the question that wasn’t a question. “Aside from his head, Steve also has minor sprains in his wrist and ankle and various minor contusions and abrasions. Neurological evaluations so far have been positive.”

She went quiet, looking as though she was expecting questions. Loki cleared his throat, nausea a knot in his gut. “May I see him?”

Doctor Tiwari gave him a very faint smile, and if he could see the curiosity in her eyes as well ( _what are you to him,_ he imagined it said), she said nothing. He appreciated her professionalism. “Of course. Room 2A down the hall on the right. If you need anything, there’s a button to call Andrew. He’s Steve’s nurse during this shift, and he can give you any more information you need.”

“Thank you,” Loki remembered to say, before turning to stride down the indicated hallway until he found the door numbered as she’d indicated. He hesitated a moment before tapping his knuckles on the door.

“Hello?” Loki felt his shoulders slump at Steve’s voice, however groggy and slurred it sounded. He closed his eyes for a moment before answer.

“It is me,” he said, trusting Steve would recognize his voice.

“Oh,” he heard after a moment. Steve didn’t sound pleased, and Loki wanted to flinch. “You can come in. The door’s unlocked.”

 _But do you want me to,_ Loki thought, but smothered the words and simply let himself into the room. He glanced first toward the other bed, which was empty.

“My own room,” Steve said. “Perks of being famous, I guess.” He didn’t sound exactly pleased about that, either. Loki made a noncommittal noise and turned his eyes on Steve. He kept himself from flinching, but it was still…for all he knew most of the damage was superficial, the heavy bruising around Steve’s left eye, more visible on his shoulder above the line of the hospital gown, the slight bleariness to his eyes – it was a reminder all over again how comparatively fragile Steve was. For all he would heal quickly – was already healing, Loki could see the faded remains of bruises that hadn’t been there when he’d left the hotel – it still made fear batter at the back of his throat.

“Steve,” he said, managing to make it neither anguished nor scolding. “I am – how do you feel?”

Steve’s smile was weak and rueful, but there was something strained about it. “Stupid, mostly. And my head hurts.”

Loki frowned. “They have not given you anything to manage the pain?”

“They offered. I said no. It’s not…too bad. Just like a really bad headache.”

Loki knew that wasn’t exactly true. He made himself move over to the chair beside Steve’s bed and lifted his hands. “May I?” Steve blinked at him, confused, and Loki tried to make himself smile. “I am offering to ease your pain. I may not be able to heal your injuries entirely, but I can at least ease your…really bad headache.”

Steve licked his lips and swallowed, eyebrows furrowing. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m taking advantage of you,” he said, after a long moment. Loki did not let himself pick at that, made himself scoff.

“I _offered._ Please, Captain. It is partly my fault you are in this state, after all.”

Steve shook his head and winced. “That’s not true,” he said vehemently. _Of course it is,_ Loki thought, but decided not to offer. He just waited, and Steve sighed and looked away. “All right. Yes. Thank you.”

His voice sounded dull, defeated, but Loki decided to take the permission anyway. Still, he tried to make it quick – even though when he touched Steve’s temples he heard him sigh, as if with relief, even before Loki had done anything.

It was relatively easy to cast a working to ease the pain, and another to urge healing. He left his fingers where they were, though, rubbing gentle circles. Steve’s eyes drifted closed and some more tension seemed to ooze out of him.

“What happened,” Loki asked after a long silence. Steve didn’t exactly tense, but he did turn his head away, so Loki withdrew his fingers.

“I just…went for a run,” he said, after a moment. “I needed to…I needed some air. I wasn’t thinking about how dark it was and before I knew it I didn’t know where I was anymore. Then I saw the car coming and it just…” He shook his head. “I guess it knocked me right off the road.”

 _You went running in the middle of the night,_ Loki wanted to snap. _No, you didn’t go running, you ran, from me, and because I chased you out_ _,_ _you ran into the dark, upset, distracted enough that you didn’t see a car coming, didn’t have a chance to leap out of the way._ He said nothing. Steve sighed.

“I was lucky someone saw me.”

“Lucky,” Loki said, flatly. Steve glanced at him, and for a moment Loki thought he would be angry. He would have welcomed anger, something to push back against, something other than silence and withdrawal, but then he just looked down.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Loki said heavily. “They said they want to keep you overnight. I will ask if I might stay.”

“You don’t have to,” Steve mumbled. He sounded tired. Defeated.

“I know I don’t have to,” Loki said. It came out harsher than he meant. “What if I want to?” Steve didn’t respond. Loki didn’t know whether to take that as victory or not. “I brought your phone,” he added, after a few moments. “In case…there is news. No one has called yet.” Steve nodded, still silent. Loki closed his eyes. “Do you – do you want me to stay?”

“I don’t know what I want,” Steve mumbled, but his hand edged out, fingers brushing Loki’s. Perhaps, Loki thought, that was the best he could hope for.

* * *

They released Steve the following day with a clean bill of health, ankle and wrists in braces and stern instructions to ice both and take it easy. Steve’s phone had buzzed once in the middle of the night and again in the morning; he checked both and seemed to slump. “It sounds like she might be out of the worst of it,” Steve said, to Loki’s questioning glance. “Still…still not great. But Sharon says her breathing’s clearer and the new antibiotics seem to be working. Maybe” He pressed a hand over his eyes and let out a shuddering exhale.

“That’s…good,” Loki said cautiously, uncertain about the reaction.

“Seems like,” Steve said, still looking at his phone a moment longer before he tucked it away. _From this, maybe,_ Loki remembered, and fell silent, removing them back to the hotel. He could feel the weight of what had happened yesterday between them, both of them looking away from it. Loki wanted nothing less than to drag it out, but he did not think it could be safely buried.

Steve sat down on the edge of the bed, massaging his leg and frowning at nothing.

“Steve,” he said, carefully.

“I told you I’m sorry.” There was a slight edge to Steve’s voice. Loki shifted slightly without realizing until he checked himself that he’d braced his feet as though expecting an attack.

“And I told you you did not need to apologize.”

“Don’t I? I dragged you down here – _don’t_ say you agreed, you’d agree to a lot of things if I asked, and I knew that. I dragged you down there, had you run around fetching things for me, and then I ran off and got hit by a car because I was stupid enough to go running on the highway at night. Does that about cover it?” Steve bent forward, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Maybe you _should_ go.”

Loki jerked back, but he felt a sting of anger, too. “What am I to think?” He asked. “I cannot tell if you want me here or not. If I am even _useful_ to you. Right now it seems I am anything but.”

Steve shook his head. “That’s not the point, you’re not – I don’t want you to think you’re some kind of tool, that I’m just using you.”

“I can see why you would worry if you truly think I am incapable of making my own decisions,” Loki said, a little caustic. Steve’s jaw clenched.

“It’s not about making your own decisions,” he said. “It’s about priorities, and I know yours are – you’d put me ahead of almost anything, including your _life._ I can’t – _not_ take that into account, I can’t ask things of you when I know you’ll probably agree, whatever it costs you.”

Loki reared back, not certain if he was insulted or stunned. “Do you truly believe that I simply bend and scrape at your every whim?”

“That’s not what I _said._ I just don’t want you to take on too much.”

“If you do not want my help then simply say so,” Loki said. He could hear his voice winding tight, frustration leaking in around the edges. “But do not – make excuses, claim it is for my own good. Send me away and have done with it or _tell me what you want._ ”

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Steve blurted out, and then looked like he wanted to take the words back. Loki’s stomach lurched.

“Why not?”

Steve shook his head. “It just doesn’t.”

“It matters to me,” Loki said, taking a step toward Steve, who lurched to his feet and limped across the room. “If you would just _tell_ me-”

“I can’t,” Steve said. His voice sounded strangled. Loki stopped, hovering.

“Can’t?” He echoed.

“That’s what I _said._ If I – if I ask – I _can’t._ ” Loki could hear the beginnings of panic in Steve’s voice and wavered between taking a step closer and holding still. He held still.

“Why not?”

Steve’s shoulders shook. “Because-” He started pacing, one of his hands gripping the back of his neck, tugging at his hair. “Because I’m _me._ ”

“What do you mean,” Loki asked. Steve made a harsh, breathless kind of noise.

“Everyone needs me to be – I’m supposed to be the one who has it together. Who inspires everyone and keeps everyone going, I’m, I’m still the damn _mascot_ and that’s fine, I don’t, someone has to do it but it means I can’t – I don’t get to _do_ this.” Steve sounded almost frantic. Loki’s heart was racing and he reached out to catch Steve’s arm, to stop his pacing.

“You can with me,” he said.

“No,” Steve said, his face crumpling. “I _can’t._ ” Loki felt himself jerk, but Steve was already continuing. “You’re – Loki, I love you and that’s why I can’t do this to you. Because I know how much you’re dealing with, how much you’re hurting, and I don’t want to be another thing weighing you down. You need me to be strong, and steady, and I _want_ to be that, I want to do that for you, but right now I just…can’t. But I won’t be an – _anchor_ around your neck.”

Loki’s heart stopped pounding and dropped into his stomach. He wavered. “Is that what you…” He swallowed. “You have never been. I have _never_ thought…”

But that was not quite true. How often had he relied on Steve, unthinking, leaned on him, taken shelter in his strength? How often had he taken that for granted? Because Steve wasn’t a weight dragging him down: he was a rock in the shifting sea of his life and he’d clung to that with all the force and desperation in him.

“Steve,” he said weakly.

“Don’t,” Steve said, his voice rough. “You don’t need to…apologize. Everything you’ve been through, you _deserve_ that. Someone to take care of you.”

Loki let go of Steve’s arm, but only to step closer to him. “So do you,” he said. Steve squeezed his eyes closed.

“Loki,” he said weakly. “You don’t have to…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“No,” Loki said. “You shouldn’t have had to.” He reached out, hands on Steve’s shoulders, letting his fingers press in. “I am not the only one here who has suffered. And I am strong enough to bear your weight.” Steve’s eyes rose to his face, shining and damp, something raw in his expression. He swallowed hard, and Loki could see his doubt. He searched for the right words. “Please,” he said. “I don’t need protection from you.”

Steve shuddered. His shoulders folded inward and he made a small, shattered sound, his head falling against Loki’s shoulder. “I knew,” Steve said, his voice raw and broken. “I knew it was coming, I knew she was…she would…”

Loki slid one arm around Steve’s waist, the other cradling his head. His heart ached. He could only imagine how Steve’s broke. “That does not make it easier.”

“Even with her memory…she’s always seemed so strong. So _alive._ But seeing her lying there, a machine breathing for her – _god._ ” He heard Steve choke on a sob. “I know it’s selfish. She had a good life. A – a _fantastic_ life, I’ve been listening to Sharon and her kids tell stories and – but I still keep thinking about everything I missed. About – she never got to see Buck come back. I didn’t get to meet her husband, or introduce her to you, or…” His voice broke again.

A part of Loki felt warmed by the fact that Steve would have wanted to introduce him. That he was not mourning – or at least not _just_ mourning – the lost chance to be Peggy Carter’s lover (and not his).

“It’s not fair,” Steve said, almost a whisper. “She was the younger than me during the war. And here I am, only a few years older, and she’s…and I keep thinking, I keep thinking if she’d been a man maybe they’d’ve made _her_ Captain America, and she’d be here and not dying and maybe, maybe that’d be…”

“Not better,” Loki interrupted. “ _Not_ better.”

“No,” Steve said, after a long second of near terror. “No, maybe not, but…I can’t help but think it.”

“And condemn her to seventy years of ice,” Loki said gently, “and the loss of all her loved ones?” Steve flinched, and Loki held him closer. “No, I know that is not what you meant. But do not forget what you sacrificed to be here. And what you said: that she has lived well. And she got to see you come back.” Steve made a sound between a keen and a whine, forehead pressing harder against Loki’s shoulder. He felt him start to cry, not loudly but hard, his body shaking with it.

 _Say something,_ a voice at the back of Loki’s mind hissed, and _fix this,_ but if Loki did not know grief or loss as Steve did, he still knew that some things were not to be fixed. Right now, Steve needed what he’d always been to Loki: an anchor. Not dragging Loki down, as Steve feared, but keeping Steve from coming unmoored.

He could do that. He _wanted_ to do that.

“I’m sorry,” he heard Steve say, voice muffled. “Sorry, I, I’ve been-”

“Hush,” Loki said, running his fingers gently through Steve’s hair. “Steve. Beloved. What you have been is suffering alone. You have held me, many time over. Let me hold you now.”

Steve’s hands rose slowly, clinging to Loki’s arms, holding on almost too tightly. Loki closed his eyes and leaned back into him, humming softly as Steve’s tears made his shoulder damp.

* * *

Loki maneuvered them to the bed, eventually, easing Steve down to his side and curling protectively around him. He quieted slowly, weeping turning to ragged breaths that slowed gradually, until Loki could feel the limp, drained quality that was the aftermath of a storm of sorrow. He didn’t pull away, pressing his lips very lightly to the back of Steve’s neck.

“Do you want to tell me about her?” He asked, instead. Steve looked at Loki, and for once Loki found it difficult to read his expression.

“You don’t have to ask,” he said.

“I know I do not have to,” Loki said. “I am offering. It is…what one does on Asgard. During a vigil.” Primarily after death, but it was not a lie. Stories could be told for many reasons. “Some say that stories can bind the souls of their heroes to life. Call back the wounded with memory of their glory.”

Steve was quiet. For a moment Loki feared he had misstepped, or perhaps even offended, but then Steve let out a little laugh.

“She shot at me once. Well – at the shield, and I’m pretty sure she knew it would repel any normal weapon.” Steve shook his head. “And the first time I saw her she decked a guy. It was one of the best things I’d ever seen.

“She sounds like a fearsome woman,” Loki ventured quietly.

“She is.” Steve’s voice went quieter again. “A real firebrand. I’d never met anyone like her. And what I’ve heard now about everything she did after I…she _built_ SHIELD, she saved the US and the world more than once with no superpowers but smarts and grit.” He let out a shuddery little sigh. “She’s…” Steve seemed to lose the words.

The pang of jealousy stung, but it was not so severe as Loki might have expected. “It is no wonder you love her,” he said, and felt Steve stiffen.

“It’s not,” he started to protest.

“Hush,” Loki said again, pressing his lips to the back of Steve’s neck again. “She sounds like the kind of woman who deserved your love. And your admiration.”

“Peggy deserves a lot more than just that.” Steve didn’t sound angry when he said it, though. Sad, a little, but mostly just like he was stating a truth. Loki rubbed his hands over Steve’s shoulders and made a listening sound, letting Steve speak, the words and memories pouring out of him a little at a time and Loki imagined each one a thread, drawing Peggy Carter back toward life, making her stronger. At least for a little while.

Carter’s mortality might be inescapable, but it did not have to be today. Let Steve have his time. If perhaps not all that he would have wanted, then some.

* * *

The news came the next morning that Peggy Carter’s fever had broken and she was growing stronger by the hour. Steve seemed to collapse inward, and then insisted that he needed to go to the hospital, sounding almost apologetic. Loki kissed his forehead lightly, offered him a small smile, and took them there.

He didn’t leave this time, though. Hovered at a distance, safely unnoticeable, while Steve found the gathering that must be Ms. Carter’s family. He waited until they were occupied in speaking to one of the healers, and then slipped through to her room.

She looked very frail, he observed. Fast asleep, her skin paper thin and near translucent, her face drawn with recent illness. But her pulse beat strongly in her neck and if he could hear the sound of congestion lingering in her breaths, it was slight. Loki turned his head to listen for the conversation in the hallway, then drew a little nearer to the bed.

He wondered if there was something he might do. But in the end, healing magic was dangerous and could be hard on the body, requiring a great deal of energy, and he knew little of it. Anything he could try might well just bring further risk, or weaken her again.

Instead, Loki just studied the face of the woman Steve had loved – did love, he thought, still, in some way. She did not look distressed, or in pain. Her expression was a slight frown, something stern about her eyebrows, but there were traces of smiles around her eyes, too. Kindness, laughter.

The private, secret jealousy Loki had felt for her was a solid, guilty lump in his stomach. The jealousy that had whispered _but he is mine_ every time he heard Carter’s name. It seemed so petty now.

“I don’t know you.”

Her voice was blurry, thick with sleep and probably drugs. Loki’s eyes jerked to her face and met startlingly clear eyes. “No,” he said slowly, after a moment. “We have not officially met.” He had seen her face before. In the home, even, back when he had been researching Steve, seeking the thread he could pull that would unravel everything about his mystery.

“I didn’t hear you come in.” She wasn’t accusing, but Loki felt his face heat anyway.

“I move very quietly, and you were resting. Which activity I should probably permit you to resume.” He turned toward the door.

“Shouldn’t you introduce yourself, if you’re going to watch an old lady sleep?” Loki nearly winced, though the tartness in her voice was mellowed by her still slightly slurring words. He turned back, after a moment, and sketched a bow.

“Loki,” he said, after a brief pause in which he considered giving a false name. “It is an honor, Lady Carter.”

Her nose wrinkled a little, but she didn’t correct his use of the title, just examined him, frowning. “That sounds familiar.” It was a prompt, but it was a prompt he did not answer. Her eyes squinted. “Is it…”

“Steve,” Loki said, after a long moment. “I am…” But he could not think of a suitable way to end that sentence. Simply “Steve’s” seemed most accurate, but he did not want to say too much. Her eyes cleared, though.

“Steve,” she said, a small smile turning up her lips. “That’s right. He came back. And you are…with him?”

Loki shifted, glancing toward the door. “Yes,” he said.

“Good,” she murmured. “Good. He needs someone to take care of him, sometimes. You do that, yes?”

A lump rose in Loki’s throat, thinking of Steve saying _I won’t be an anchor around your neck._ “I will try,” he said. He could see her flagging, and moved, half on impulse, to take her hand carefully in his. “I swear it.” _On Yggdrasil itself, and may the world end ere I be forsworn._ The first promise he had made Steve. This one he made her.

Peggy Carter’s eyes opened just a fraction again, looking straight at him. “Oh,” she said, her voice a little clearer. “Loki. I remember. Steve’s mentioned you before.” Loki felt a pang in his chest, wanted to ask _what did he say? Tell me,_ but he could hear footsteps.

“I have to leave,” he said, trying to withdraw his fingers carefully. She let him go, her eyes closing again.

“Go on,” she said. “I won’t tell them.” Perhaps she sensed his surprise, because another smile flickered on her lips. “I was a spy, you know,” she murmured. Loki had to smile, in the breath before he stole himself away to the hospital grounds, where he found a small patch of garden and a bench.

He sat there quietly and waited, listening to the sounds of the city. When Steve came to find him, Loki stood and embraced him, pressing his hand to Steve’s back where he could feel the steady _thud-thud_ of his heart.

“Thank you,” Steve said. His voice sounded hoarse.

“I love you,” Loki said, because it bore saying. Because he did not say it enough. “And I am sorry.” He felt Steve stir, about to protest, and tightened his embrace. “No, listen. I am sorry that I have so often taken your support for granted, and not ensured that you could have the same of me. That I have, at times, ignored your burdens because I needed you to be invincible.”

“Loki,” Steve said quietly. Loki shook his head.

“You have helped me…bear my pain. From here forward, let me help you bear yours as well.”

Steve was quiet for a long moment before he let out a quiet sigh, his hands fanning out across Loki’s shoulders. “That’s something I’m not great at sharing.”

Loki drew away just slightly, cupping the back of Steve’s neck and meeting his eyes. “Perhaps it is time you learned.” Steve licked his lips and swallowed before he smiled, very faintly.

“Maybe it is.”

Loki cupped his face between his hands as he kissed him and thought _maybe. Maybe it will be all right._

_Maybe this time I’ve done the right thing._


End file.
